


Hold on

by Killwaii



Series: One foot in front of the other... [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auctions, Blowjobs, Boyfriends, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Times, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Smut, Frottage, Getting Together, Harry Potter Being an Idiot, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Not Canon Compliant, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, PTSD, Smut, The Ministry sucks, Trauma, because it was terrible, if that's a thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:35:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26068831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killwaii/pseuds/Killwaii
Summary: It had been a month since Draco’s release from Azkaban.***Sometimes, a happy ending takes time. Sometimes, it takes a misunderstanding.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: One foot in front of the other... [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892389
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	Hold on

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NikaWithSpice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikaWithSpice/gifts).



> For Nika.

It had been a month since Draco’s release from Azkaban.

He had tried to sleep in his new room the second night, wanting to avoid being a burden. That course of action was swiftly dismissed when he woke screaming, clawing at his neck as the dream crippled him- Dementors choked him, tormented him, the last memories of Harry being ripped from his very soul…

Harry had burst through the door, in nothing but loose pajama pants, ready to attack. When he’d seen Draco, his face had crumpled, pain and worry etched into those green eyes, as his hands stilled Draco’s, gripping tight until Draco had stopped fighting, the images of Dementors, the other prisoners fading. Harry had then scooped Draco up, moving them both to Harry’s room, where he wandlessly lit the fire big and bright, then lay them down, spooned together close.

Draco fell asleep that night to the whispered reassurances that everything would be okay, and that Draco was safe.

That was how Draco had moved into Harry’s room on a permanent basis. 

Draco didn’t mind, no. How could he? Having that warm body there, having Harry there, the feeling of safety and contentment kept the nightmares at bay. For both of them.

Harry was also continuing his mind healing sessions, and Draco had recently started his own with a different doctor. They had agreed that seeing the same doctor-no matter how much Harry had been helped by his-was not in their best interests. Instead, Harry had gotten a recommendation from his doctor, with Draco’s specific...needs...in mind, and that was the end of that.

It turned out that a lot of what Draco had thought was normal in his life, in his childhood, and his family, was actually very much fucked up and not the least bit normal. And that was before the whole dark lord/war/being sent to a mind-trauma prison for actions that were forced on him. 

The process was slow, but Draco was thankful to be able to address his issues. Grateful to have an understanding mind healer. Thankful to have Harry, who was supportive and understanding and just as fucked up as he was.

Draco had just left a session, grabbing some take-out curry on the way home, when he arrived at Grimmauld Place to hear yelling from the sitting room. He recognized Harry’s voice, but not the other.

“You’re daft, if you think I’ll agree to this.” Harry sounded frustrated.

“There isn’t much of a choice, Harry. You agreed to an event, and this is that event.”

Draco tilted his head, still standing in the front hall. Event? What did Harry agree to?

“-but-”

“No Harry. Be there, tomorrow, at 5:00pm in your best dress robes. The actual date will happen directly following the auction, so be prepared to woo your buyer.”

“Minister-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Harry. Goodbye.” 

Silence, then a shout of frustration. 

Tendrils of unease unfurled within Draco. Just what, exactly, was going on? What did the Minister mean by date? Like...a  _ date _ date or was Draco...just assuming? Even he hadn’t been on-

“Oh, Draco. Welcome home. I didn’t hear you come in.” Harry said, interrupting Draco’s thoughts. Harry looked as frustrated as he sounded, hair messier than usual, a crease between his brows.

Draco didn’t reply before Harry spoke again, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess you heard some of that? It’s not like I want....I’m not….there isn’t much of a choice. Apparently, the Prophet already announced it, and funds have been pouring in and…”

Harry trailed off with a sigh.

“And I didn’t have a good enough reason to not do it, I guess. It’s only one date though, and I did promise…”

Draco could only blink as white noise filled his head, loud against his skull. No good reason? One date…but...weren’t they…?

White noise cleared to complete clarity. No. No they weren’t. 

Draco wasn’t Harry’s boyfriend. Sure, they were...affectionate, perhaps in the beginning of some sort of courtship, but that didn’t preclude either of them from dating others. There was no agreement of exclusivity. Nothing that specifically tied them together.

Draco had just...misinterpreted what they were. He had assumed things that were, painfully obviously, simply not true. 

The white noise filled Draco’s brain again, muffling the world around him. Harry was saying something, but Draco couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t hear whatever it was.

His therapist had advised him that when he felt like this, he needed to ground himself, or feel safe enough to, what was the term? Disassociate? Something like that. He needed a place to feel safe enough to disassociate. 

And, right now, this wasn’t that place. Whatever safety Draco had felt in this place, with Harry, had dissolved the second he’d said he was going on a date. With someone else.

Interrupting whatever Harry was saying, Draco turned back towards the door.

“I have to go.”

“-wait, Draco, hold on-”

Vaguely, the words filtered through Draco’s brain, but he wasn’t aware of them, didn’t comprehend them, as he left Grimmauld Place. 

* * *

Harry paced. Not to be dramatic, but he felt like his life was falling apart. Not in the Voldemort-coming-to-murder-everyone but in the quiet-nothing-to-be-done way. The insidious way that slowly pulled apart all of Harry’s progress, ripped apart all the good things that had finally been happening, the happiness he’d been feeling.

He glanced at the Prophet as he paced, the image, the headline again filling him with a deep rage.

Harry hated the Prophet, with their lies, their misrepresentation. It was a trash paper that only sought to tell the most outrageous version of the truth to sell more papers, create more intrigue.

He’d stopped getting the Prophet, after the war. Refused to even look at it, fully aware of the lies and utter bullshit they were saying about him, saying about Draco. Ron and Hermione had filled him in on “society's opinion” of his testimony at both Draco’s and Narcissa’s trials, and it made him sick. 

Harry didn’t literally fucking  _ die _ to deal with this shit. So he didn’t.

Until today, and he regret that choice with his very soul. 

**_Most Eligible Bachelor, Harry Potter Up for Sale!_ **

_ In a Wizarding world first, Britain's top bachelor will be making a public appearance, and has eagerly agreed to be auctioned off for an exclusive, all expense paid, romantic date night! Who will win this prestigious honour? Tickets start at… _

**_Convicted Death Eater, Draco Malfoy, whereabouts still unknown-should we prepare for the next Dark Lord?_ **

Harry couldn’t even pretend to have gotten through the headline before he’d thrown the paper across the room. His own headline, with those asinine comments, was one thing. But for them to cast Draco as some up-and-coming Voldemort? No. Harry was furious.

At least Draco hadn’t seen the paper. Or, at least, assumed he hadn’t. Draco had left the previous day, and still hadn’t come home. Which, frankly, was another reason Harry was pacing. They hadn’t spent a night apart since the disastrous time Draco had tried to sleep in his own room. 

The terror that had filled Harry that night...seeing Draco’s nails ripping his own skin, the pain-laced cry, and the trembling in his arms….Harry never wanted to see that again. Never wanted Draco to go through that again. Especially not alone, where Harry couldn’t protect him.

Harry sighed. Okay, maybe his life  _ was _ falling apart, just a bit. 

A stupid event he wanted nothing to do with, an entire community who thought he was single, Draco missing, and he had, oh, about 20 minutes before Ron was set to show up and escort him to the Ministry for said stupid event. 

Where the bloody hell was Draco?

* * *

“Ready to go, mate?”

Ron was in his Auror trainee robes. The minister had, at least, acknowledged that Harry didn’t want some stranger as his escort, and had allowed Ron temporary full Auror power to be able to act as Harry’s escort. 

Harry straightened his tie again in the mirror before turning around to face his best friend, robes bright in the dimness of Grimmauld Place.

“Not much of a choice, really.”

“Nope!” Ron replied, as they headed towards the door. “Look on the bright side, though. You may just find yourself that special witch tonight.”

Harry froze.

Fuck. He….he hadn’t actually  _ told  _ Ron and Hermione about Draco, had he? They’d both been too busy with the trip to Australia, the Granger reunion, and Ron’s new position...

Bollocks. 

“Er...Ron. About that…”

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want to come, darling? It’s supposed to be the event of the year…”

“Thank you, Aunt ‘Meda. I appreciate the offer, but I just don’t feel up to it.” Draco responded.

“Draco, dear...are you sure you don’t want to talk about whatever is bothering you? I know the past few years have been... _ challenging _ , but dearheart, you had been doing so well these past few weeks…” Narcissa trailed off, pale grey eyes searching Draco’s. 

Challenging was one way of putting all the absolute horror that had been Draco’s life. But, he couldn’t blame his mother. Not entirely, at least. 

“I’m sure, Mother. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Draco offered a weak smile to the two women, decked out in full ball regalia. “If you don’t leave soon, you won’t get a good seat.”

“You’re right, of course, darling.” Narcissa leaned down, her lips dry against Draco’s cheek. “I just worry about you. You know I can’t help it….”

“‘Cissy?”

“Right. We’ll be back in a few hours, take care my love!”

And with that, Draco was alone again.

* * *

“Are you absolutely daft? I’m serious, Harry, have you fucking lost it?” Ron was pacing in front of the door.

“Not at all, I mean-”

“Harry. You’re dating Malfoy. Do I even need to remind you-”

“No! I know, Ron, I do. But…” Harry ran his hand through his hair, sighing. “...you didn’t see him. Then. You didn’t see how...broken he was. Ron...I...he didn’t want to do most of what he did, I know he didn’t.” Harry paused, chewing his lips, mind adrift. “He has nightmares as often as I do, screaming-”

“Okay. I...Okay. Harry, I just...I trust your judgement. Not Malfoy, but...you.”

“Thanks, Ron.”

“-but...wait. If you already had a boyfriend, why did you agree to the auction?”

Harry snorted, moving towards the door. “Not much of a choice, eh?”

* * *

“I just don’t know why he came so suddenly! He’d been doing so well, and Mr Potter had been taking such good-”

“Wait, did you say Potter?”

“Yes...is that important?”

“More than you can imagine. Expect me soon.”

* * *

“Blimey, there’s a lot of people who want to shag you.”

“Ron!”

“What? It’s true. Look at all these people, Merlin. Harry, I do not envy being you tonight.”

Harry and Ron had apparaited in near the Ministry, in the invisibility cloak, and were avoiding the absolute crush of people who had bought tickets to the auction.

Harry could only snort. He didn’t envy being himself most of the time, if he were honest. Not that he disliked himself, because he was comfortable as he was, but the misguided fame and glory, the obsessive hero worship, and the countless expectations were more than anyone could ever possibly want.

He had literally died for these people-couldn’t they give him at least a modicum of peace?

“Harry, Ron! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you two.” Hermione appeared only moments after they removed the cloak, her sharp eyes spotting them long before the crowds could. She hugged both of them, placing a quick peck on Ron;s cheek, before leading them towards the stage.

“It’s going to be quite boring for you, I’m afraid. We have all the other auction items to go up first, before we finally do, well, you. The turnout is quite a lot bigger than we’d anticipated, which is good. The lower items won’t sell for much, I don’t think, but you…” Hermione was nearly feral when she looked at Harry “...you’ll bring in quite the price.”

“What is the money even being used for? Replace the statues again? I can tear them down for free…” Harry mumbled, ignoring all the voices calling his name, the catcalls, now that they had been spotted.

“Harry...I get why you don’t like the Ministry, I do. But this is actually for a good cause.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, look.” she stopped them both, pulling them into a quiet alcove, casting a barrage of silencing spells.    
  


“‘Mione-”

“This is hush hush because it hasn’t been formalized yet, but the Ministry has accepted my proposal for more Wizard-Muggle integration in educational pursuits. One of the first things we’re doing is developing partnerships between Wizard-run, Muggle employers to take on Hogwarts students to learn, first hand, how to interact with Muggles. Like an employment internship in the Muggle world.”

“Wow, ‘Mione, that’s...actually a brilliant idea.”

“Thank you, Harry,” The trio started walking again, towards the stage.

“Speaking of Wizard integration, did Harry tell you about his new paramour?” 

“What, wait, Harry? I didn’t think you were dating yet, it hasn’t been that long since Ginny. I’d actually always assumed the two of you-”

“It’s Malfoy.” Ron interrupted.

Hermione stopped dead, turning to face the boys. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you. Surely I didn’t just hear that Harry was dating Malfoy.”

Harry moved a step back. After Ron had taken it so well, he’d just assumed Hermione would too. The look on her face said otherwise.

“Er-well, that is to say...I mean…”

“Harry, you have got to be kidding me. Have you seriously forgotten the last 7 years? How he broke your nose? Made your childhood a living hell?”

“I’d blame the Dursley’s for that, actually.” Harry mumbled.

“Harry!”

“Hermione! Look. I didn’t forget, but, weren’t you the one who said we should all move on? The war is  _ over _ . The past is  _ over _ . People change-we all have. Why can’t Draco?”

Hermione only continued to glare, before sighing. “Fine. But only because I trust you, not him.” She looked around the crowded hall “Where is he anyways? I’m surprised he’d let you do this, honestly.”

“Not like I had a choice, now did I?”

“I suppose not. So? Where is he?”

“About that….”

* * *

“Our final “item” for the night, the one all you lovely witches and wizards have been waiting for, is the one and only Saviour, Harry Potter! This item includes a fully funded date night with our hunky hero, starting immediately after this wraps up! Dinner and dancing have already been booked, but if anything happens after, well!”

Harry would rather jab his wand in his eye than think about the expectation this date was setting. There was no way it was going to end well, no matter who ‘bought’ him.

He’d had strict guidelines for the auction, and not just anyone was allowed to purchase Harry’s time. Whether the minister would listen to that request or not…

“Stand on up Harry, show the folks what they’re paying for!” 

Harry hoped the grimace on his face was at least a passable smile.

“Good good! Look how handsome he is now! And a hero, through and through! A bit of a recluse, having gone a bit quiet after the...event, of a few months ago! But the promise of doing some good in the wizarding world, and supporting the Ministry brought out our shy little hero!”

Harry cringed, as the lies flowed from the announcer's mouth. He could see Hermione, to the side of the stage, eyes wide, mouthing what had to be ‘please don’t please don’t please don’t’ over and over as they locked eyes.

“We’ll start the bidding on this elusive number at, let’s say, 100 galleons. Do we-”

The announcer was drowned out by the entire crowd calling out numbers.

Truth be told, Harry couldn’t keep up with the shouts, the calls. All the voices forming a cacophony of noise and shouting. It was loud against his chest, which thundered wildly against his bones, choking.

He needed to leave. He couldn’t…

“50,000 galleons” a quiet voice cut through the noise, silencing the rest of the patrons. 

It even took the announcer off guard, as he sputtered into his wand “Oh, 50...that’s, are you…? You heard it here folks, one lucky lady has thrown in for 50,000. Do we have anyone who wants to go higher?”

The room was nearly silent, the sounds of muffled robes and whispers loud in the room. Harry couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was...not pleasant. He craned his neck, looking for the witch who had bought him, but he didn’t recognize the elderly woman.

“No? Going once….going twice….and sold! For 50,000 galleons! What a night, what a night indeed! Now if I can ask everyone who made purchases to head towards…”

Harry stopped listening to the announcer, as the crowds began to get up and move towards the reception area. The auction was done, yes, but there was a ball with food and drinks for everyone.

“Mr Potter? This way please.” One of the Ministry officials called, ushering him towards the winners, where both Hermione and Ron were speaking with people.

“Mr Potter! My daughter-”

“-should take him on a date, quite-”

“-Rich and eligible, I can assure-”

Harry ignored the throng of people shouting at him, trying for his attention. He didn’t even want this date, let alone play musical chairs of dates with the wizarding community. 

There was only one date he wanted, and he’d already buggered that all up, somehow.

“Mr Potter, this is Mrs. Edith Jones. She has won your auction for the evening.”

The woman was quite a lot older than Harry had expected. Tall, with dark, but clearly rich robes; silver-streaked hair swept back in a knot; and severe eyes as she held her hand out. Harry shook her hand, offering a quick how-do-you-do, before the Ministry official was handing them a manky old candy wrapper.

Harry didn’t even have time to ask where they were going before the Portkey activated, swirling them both away.

* * *

“I wasn’t asking, darling. I am telling you to put this on.”

“-But, I’m not going anywhere, and-”

“Darling. You have 5 seconds before I dress you myself.”

“Goddamn bint.”

“That’s what I thought.”

* * *

“Are we in Paris?” Harry gaped as they exited the alleyway they had arrived in. A man in formal attire had been waiting for them, bowing, before leading them towards a small restaurant.

“Yes indeed sir. Please, this way.” was the response.

They were on a narrow, quiet street, lights reflecting off the river they walked along. The Eiffel tower was a glittering tower in the distance, and Harry was struck with its beauty.

He was still staring at the tower when they stopped, the door to a small, but chic restaurant standing open, the Matri di leading them in the candle-lit room.

Harry wanted to be surprised they were the only ones at the restaurant, but he wasn’t. There was no way the Ministry would auction off the most sought after war hero without going full tilt. It was almost flattering to be treated well, after so long, but it didn’t ring true.

That, and the witch who’d bought him had yet to say a single word to him.

“So, Mrs. Jones, er…”

“While flattered, I am not your date for the evening, Mr Potter. I am here on behalf of my mistress, with whom you are acquainted. She will be here presently.”

“Er...okay. Sorry.” Harry responded, hand on his neck, as he sat himself at their table, their waiter holding out the chair.

“Still eloquent as always, I see, Potter.” 

Harry spun at that familiar voice, greeted by the site of none other than Pansy Parkinson. Dressed in some brand name Muggle dress, in a shimmery emerald, framed by a heavy black cloak, and terrifyingly tall heels-she looked good. 

Harry had heard about her...exit...from Hogwarts, a flare of anger, anger and wariness, alighting in his gut. The war was over, yes. And Voldemort was dead, yes, but that didn’t stop that tendril of fear, of anxiety, from curling in his veins.

“Parkinson. Not who I was expecting to fork out that much money.”

She waved her hand, silver tipped nails like daggers, catching the light. “Nonsense. It’s for charity, afterall.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She sat across from him, back straight, the years of Pureblood breeding oozing through her every move. 

“Yes, I know.” A nail tip against red wine lips, pale eyes considering. “Why are  _ you _ here, Potter? Looking for a nice witch to settle down with?”

“No! I...no. I-” 

“You know, I'd have expected the savior to have more options, rather than having to resort to Ministry Tinder.”

“-now wait a minute-”

“The great Harry Potter can’t get a date on his own, and has to resort to-”

“I have a boyfriend already, Parkinson. Merlin.”

A perfectly plucked eyebrow raises “Do you now, Potter?”

“I-yes. Er-”

She leaned forward, grey eyes bright. “So, the Savior is bent. Interesting. Tell me Potter-” she spoke over Harry’s protests, voice sharp and insistent “-are you fond of your  _ boyfriend _ ?”

“Of course I am! Merlin, Parkins-”

“Really now? Then tell me, why did you agree to be sold to me?”

“I wasn’t specifically looking for you, you know.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.”

Harry stared at her, those grey eyes searching, waiting. Nails drumming on the hard table, eyebrow raised.

“It’s not like I wanted to be part of that...that...farce. I just...didn't have a choice. A favor for a favor. That’s all.”

She looked him over, and Harry could feel her judgement, before, eyes locked on his, she leans away. 

“See, darling? Your boyfriend is just an idiot, like I told you.”


End file.
